


With You

by JamieOver_JamieGone



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, JD needs a hug, Jealousy, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-06 09:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12208764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieOver_JamieGone/pseuds/JamieOver_JamieGone
Summary: Veronica Sawyer is part of the hottest, most influential, soul-sucking clique in school. Day in and day out is all about being popular and catering to her "friends"... That is until she sets her sights on Westerburg's newest student Jason Dean. This mysterious bad boy uproots her life creating a rift between friends, frightening her parents, and unearthing a football jock's secret obsession. Romance, jealousy, drama, and violence without the drain cleaner.AU: JD is not a murderer





	1. The New Kid

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mix of Heathers the movie and Heathers the musical, but I did write it with the movie characters' looks and personalities in mind.

_..................................................................................._

_Beautiful._

 

That had been her first thought after catching his eye in the lunch room. Dark wispy hair, black trench coat, flannel, and jeans;  the kid was every dark fantasy her romantic side had ever hoped for-

 

_Like a wild, untamable, dark horse._  

 

The boy sat as an outsider observing quietly from a far corner of the lunch room. He was listening to every conversation, it seemed, and zeroing in on none in particular...  
Of course, that was _before_ he'd noticed Veronica. The finely dressed brunette remembered how the moment they had locked eyes he'd sat up straighter, taller, his look of calm detachment assaulted by a wave of interest that lit him up like a little kid in a candy store. Veronica's heart nearly pounded out of her chest! He was looking at her! Looking at her and _OH_ so interested. 

 

_Gotchya_

 

Thankfully, Heather McNamara noticed her staring and promptly supplied the cute stranger's name.

  
  
"Jason Dean. " it was like a name from an old 40s film. It rung with sexuality. It screamed mysterious stranger.

 

_Jason Dean_

 

The teen in question nodded when she approached, narrowing his eyes a bit. He tipped his head up and then back down, looking at the popular girl through soft brown eyelashes. He wasn't at all nervous, as far as Veronica could tell.  Actually, Jason Dean seemed _very_ comfortable in his own awkwardness.  Fidgeting, but with a sense of purpose. Something that almost resembled confidence radiated off the kid in waves as he ran a hand through thick dark hair, quickly dropping to scratch thoughtfully at his collar when the girl's skirts brushed the secluded table.

  
  
"Mmm." He hummed, his face stuck somewhere between skepticism and intrigue. " _JD_   for short."

 

_"JD._ "  Veronica repeated. _Even better._ One could definitely get used to that name. In all seriousness, she was willing to call a man anything if they were as dark, mysterious, and good-looking as _this_ kid.  She couldn't even help it! Thought after dirty thought flew by her head as she gave the poor guy and once-over.  "I have a question to ask you... But I'll warn you, it's pretty stupid."

 

JD chuckled softly, "There are no stupid questions" He twirled his index finger in the air like he was mocking a long dead poet. "Shoot."

 

"Ok."  _I warned you._ "You inherit a million dollars the same day aliens decide to take over the earth. What do you do with the money?"

 

That's all it took to finally get JD to flush a slight shade of pink, a small smile playing crookedly on his beautiful face. "Hm. That's the stupidest question I've ever heard." 

  
They both laughed and the boy answered her question. Honestly, Veronica had no idea what he responded with. She was too busy imagining what it would be like to throw her arms around the boy's shoulders and kiss him 'til he couldn't breathe. She'd bet he would let her too.

_GOD_   listen to her! Thinking about another person this way? She sounded like Heather McNamara when her friend was on a Ram Sweeney rant. It was crazy. It _really_ was. She had never felt like this with ANY boy she'd dated before. Something was different this time.

 

_JD was different._

 

" _So_ ahhhh... You a Heather?" 

 

"No," She answered, forcing herself to focus on his face.  "I'm a Veronica... Veronica Sawyer." He looked around her at the three well dressed bitches standing ten feet away.  _Of course_ he'd assume she was a Heather. Not only had he seen her trailing after their brightly colored high heels all through lunch, he most definitely witnessed her helping the Heathers pick on Martha Dunnstock. The poor heavy-set girl had run from the room in tears.

 

_Good going Veronica._   Definitely not one of her best moments...

 

**_"VERONICA!"_ **

 

_And Speak of the devil._  

 

Heather Chandler's high pitched screech had both of them jumping out of their socks. JD recovered before she did, leaving an embarrassed and wide-eyed Veronica snapping her head back to look at her "friend".

 

" _Chop Chop!_ That poll isn't gonna finish itself!" Chandler was the only one still standing there by the time she looked, tapping her stupid red watch.

 

"Heh. Sorry, I-"  When she turned back to JD he was grimacing, drumming his fingers against his plastic lunch tray.  The sight made her trip on her words, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. "I have to go." 

 

"So it would seem"  Annoyed? Apologetic? Veronica couldn't tell. He was so hard to read with those intense eyes. Did he think her bowing down to the Heathers' every whim was unattractive? Did she just fuck up her chance?

 

_Only one way to find out_

 

"Yeah.  Well, umm...  See ya around?"

 

To her surprise, the new kid's face remained unchangeably stoic, all except for his eyes. Black as night, the look in them became something handsomely predatory. For as long as she lived, Veronica didn't think she would ever forget the intensity she saw in JD's  eyes that day.

 

 " _Definitely_."  
  
..............................................................................................

* * *

 

 " _God_ , Veronica! Drool much?" The red clad Heather tapped the back of her friend's leg with her striped crochet mallet. With her other hand, she casually flipped her strawberry blonde tresses over her shoulder-pads. "You were practically _throwing_ your panties at the new kid. I thought you were sworn off dating high-school guys?"

 

_Ha! Did I say that?_ Veronica smiled, breathing in the cool fall air. "Well... never say never." _Especially when said high-school guy is a fucking gorgeous brooding dreamboat._

 

Chandler smacked the ball, straightening out her back and watching it knock into Heather McNamara's yellow one.

 

"Would you lay off, Heather. I think Jason Dean is very dreamy." McNamara chirped, winking in Veronica's direction.

 

Heather Duke, the third and most pissy of the Heathers, didn't agree. "Ha! Dreamy? _I_ think he's a freak! Did you see what he pulled in the Caf today?"

 

It was true. As soon as he and Veronica had parted ways in the lunch room, Jason Dean unfortunately found himself a victim of Ram Sweeney and Kurt Kelly.  The senior quarterback and linebacker of Westerburg High had a bad habit of picking on anyone they could get their hands on. As the new kid, it was no surprise that JD was a target. What _was_ surprising however was that, instead of rolling over and showing the idiot-jocks his belly, JD swiftly pulled out a gun and fired two blanks into the senior footballers' faces. The lunch room had erupted into chaos, Jason Dean was dragged down to the principal's office, and the two jocks spent the next hour washing piss out of their pants. It was fucking _hilarious!_

 

"No, it was not _hilarious_." Duke added, smacking her mallet against the green colored wooden ball. "That psycho should be in jail!"

 

"Whatever." Chandler spat. "It's your turn, Heather."

 

"No, it's Veronica's turn."

 

"Oh. Fuck." Veronica ran over to her ball, leaning down and setting her mallet behind it's blue painted surface. The girls' game went on as normal, thankfully, and  JD eventually faded from the conversation to make room for a more pressing matter.

 

"I'm taking Sawyer to her first Remington party tonight." Chandler grinned, swinging her mallet in a circle "I'm giving her _her_ shot."

 

"Exciting," McNamara whistled. "Not too late to keep those panties away from high school boys after all?"  The Heathers laughed and Veronica nervously giggled along with them. It sucked. She'd secretly been hoping Heather Chandler had forgotten about the Remington party.

 

_Well, no such luck._

 

"Heather!" Veronica's mom called from the porch, setting a pan of spaghetti on the wooden outdoor table. "Your mother is here!"

 

Her friends all looked at each other, throwing their mallets down onto a nearby flower bed. Chandler waited for the other two Heathers to start making their way up to the house before saying. "You blow it tonight, girl, and it's keggers with kids all next year. Do you understand?"

 

_Lord help._


	2. 7-Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where we start to divert from canon. Buckle up.

"Corn nuts!" Chandler shouted across the parking lot of the 7-Eleven. "It's not a party without corn nuts!"

 

The brunette rolled her eyes and grabbed for the door.

 

The queen bitch of Westerburg high, aka Heather Chandler, was dragging her to a Remington party tonight. Honestly, she'd rather not go to the stupid thing. College boys or not, she was never much of a partier. She wasn't even _really_ that much of a drinker: Vodka made her sick to her stomach and whiskey burned, beer was fine but tasted like piss and Veronica _ALWAYS_ puked. The heathers knew this, so why Heather Chandler would ever think it was a good idea to bring her to a college party was beyond her. Just TRY to argue with the walking personification of a shark though.

 

"VERONICA! CORN NUTS!!!"

 

"YES, _HEATHER_!"

 

Veronica supposed she should be honored that she was chosen to go. Chandler only ever took McNamara with her to college parties. No surprise there. McNamara was a social butterfly and extremely gorgeous. She could drink a man under the table and apparently never hurls up her dinner. At Ram Sweeny's last house party, Veronica could still picture the way Heather McNamara had danced and sang and laughed. She was the life of the party...  _God_ what a girl would give to be that confident.

The glass doors of the store front swung open easily with one tug. It was a little passed sundown. No one else seemed to be in there aside from one 30-year-old clerk manning the register.

 

"How's your night, ma'am?"

 

"Fine. Uhhh Corn nuts?" The man pointed to a brightly colored stand in the back.

 

"Perfect." Heels clicked on the linoleum floor as she grazed through the selection of candy bars on her way to the corn nuts.  7-Elevens were her dad's thing. She didn't often stop at one. Then again, she didn't often go to Remington parties with Heather... Heather Chandler and her _fucking corn nuts_ -

"Greetings and salutations." A delightfully familiar voice called from behind her. The teen gasped and turned around, dropping a bag of corn nuts on her shoe.  

 

"JD!"

 

"In living color." He bent to retrieve the fallen snack.

 

Veronica couldn't believe her luck. Of all the Westerburg students to run into in a 7-Eleven, here stood her strange dark prince! Hair perfectly combed back with fallen wisps decorating his forehead, green flannel shirt unbuttoned to reveal a tight gray tank underneath, boots, and that endearing trench coat of his hanging loosely off of thin shoulders. He had a crooked smile plastered on his face and a cherry slushy in his hand. 

 

_Beautiful._

 

JD cocked his head slightly, watching the girl's eyes fall on his drink.

 

"Specialty of the house. How about a slushy? On me?" Veronica was still too stunned to answer. JD took that as a yes. "Alright. Cherry or lime?"

 

"Cherry." She forced herself to say. Veronica couldn't stop herself from smiling ear to ear. He was even more handsome under the harsh lights of a cheap gas station. "You come here often, stranger?"

 

"To this store? No.  To 7-Eleven? Yes." It was a weird thing to say, but a hot guy buying her a slushy was allowed to say a few weird things, she decided. He paid for the drink and pocketed the change.  
  
  
"Thanks." The boy raised his eyebrows at her, stepping aside so she could grab her cup. "I'm actually really stoked to see you." Veronica admitted, a soft blush heating up her face. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to talk to you for a while after what happened in the caf."   JD only shrugged and shoved his hands in his coat pockets.  
  
  
"I mean... Kinda extreme right?" She chuckled. Her poor attempt at getting him to comment wasn't lost on her dark prince. He humored her.  
  
  
"Yeah. Well, " Pocketed hands drew together at his waist, pulling the trench coat around him like a warm blanket.  Inching closer, the boy leaned in to whisper-  "The extreme always seems to make an impression."

 

_Don't kiss his fucking face Don't kiss his fucking face Don' kiss his fucking face Don't kiss his fucking face Don't kiss his fucking face Don't kiss his fucking face_

 

"How _very_." She said as soon as she could manage.

  
What beautiful grace of god decided to bestow this boy upon her life? He was complete perfection and  Veronica would forever be grateful, no matter where their chemistry led them:  the movies,  maybe prom, a nice little stroll down a certain rose petal covered isle? _Whatever_ , for now she would accept a slushy from 7-Eleven.  

  
They stood staring at each other for WAY too long; him with his trench coat wrapped around him like Dracula and her toying with the straw of her slushy.  

 

"So," She broke the silence first, only for the sanity of the 7-Eleven clerk who was awkwardly standing behind the counter witnessing this.  "What brings you to Sherwood, Ohio?"

 

"My dad's construction company... or uhh _DE_ construction, as he would put it."

 

" _DE_ construction?"

 

"Mm.  He likes tearing things down." The teen's hands sprang from his pockets, waving in the air as if reading an imaginary billboard. "Big Bud Dean Construction!"

 

" _AHha_! That guy from the commercial? That's your dad?"

 

"In all his toxic glory." Veronica didn't miss the underlying meaning.

 

_Note to self: Subject of "dad" is off limits._

  
Not a problem. She was a pro at changing the subject. Fights between Heather Chandler and Heather Duke would do that to a person.  
  
  
"Do you move around a lot?"  
  
  
" _A lot_ is putting it lightly. We've moved sixteen times. Ten different schools since I was in seventh grade."  
  
  
"Holy shit! Ten schools? That can't be easy."  
  
  
He sighs, nodding towards the exit.  "Everyone's life has got static."

.  
She let him hold the door for her, stepping out into the chilly air and standing together under the dim lights of the gas station.  
  
  
"I never asked why you were so dressed up tonight... in a 7-Eleven?" He smirks. "Big date?"  
  
  
" _Ha_. No."  Did he really think she'd be on a date with another guy after meeting him?  "I'm not going on a date. I'm following Heather to this party at Remington University."

  
At the mention of Remington, JD visibly tensed. Had she said something wrong?  
  
  
"Where?"  
  
  
She's almost afraid to repeat herself.

  
"The college? It's about ten minutes north from here. Heather Chandler was invited by one of her- uhmm... _gentleman callers_."  She chuckles, but JD doesn't laugh at her joke, he doesn't even _react_ , he just creases his brow and stares at the ground.  "Ummm.  Normally Heather _McNamara_ would go, but Heather decided to drag me along instead."

 

_Nothing._

  
Feeling a bit awkward, Veronica took a moment to look over at Chandler's car. The blonde was practically SEETHING.  Steam rose out of the car window, or maybe Veronica just imagined it. Heather was _pissed_ and, honestly, she had every right to be. Grabbing corn nuts in a 7-Eleven didn't mean chatting it up with a boy while sipping a slushy for twenty minutes.  
  
  
"Listen, I _really_ have to go."  
  
  
"No." He says, looking up at her. "Bag the party. Stay here"  
  
  
"What?" Was he serious? "In the 7-Eleven?"

  
"Why not?"

  
She sighs.  "I wish."  It was a cute idea but... _No_ , Heather would kill her. Skipping the Remington party was out of the question. If she were to walk on Heather right now it would be hell for the rest of the school year.

 _"VER-ON-I-CAAA!"_  
  
  
Right on cue, the car horn blared.  

  
JD stepped closer, the edges of his coat brushing her legs. "I mean it." He says a little more seriously. She looks up at his face and sees the crooked smile disappear. "I'm familiar with those... _types_ of parties.  Trust me, you won't like it."  
  
  
"Won't like it?"  _HM!_   Ok, wait. Since when is her handsome stranger an all knowing guru of college parties? Now, she didn't want to be annoyed by something so stupid, but against her better judgment.... 

 

"It's really not a place for girls like you."

 

"Girls like _me_?"  Irritation crept up inside her, turning her complexion a blotchy shade of red.  "Don't tell me that in less than _five_ lingering stares you've managed to get me all figured out, _Jason Dean_."  
  
  
JD's head twitched to the side, his deep frown now edging towards angry scowl.  
  
  
"It was more than five-" He pops his lips, looking anywhere but her face.  "...and I think you'd be surprised, _Veronica Sawyer_."  He did look at her when he said her name, eyes narrowed to slits. His anger surprised her. _SHE_ should be the one who was angry! He was the one who overstepped, right?  
  
  
The boy licked his lips and turned his back on her, stepping off the curb and heading towards a parked motorcycle. "Fuck it." She heard him hiss as he threw a leg over the seat. "You're right. Go. Your queen awaits" He waved his hand at her and kicked the motor on. It thundered to life, adding to Veronica's irritation.  
  
  
_Fuck him!_   She couldn't believe what had just happened! He looked absolutely furious, but Veronica, for the life of her, couldn't piece together why! He barely knew her? How he could he be upset over her choosing not to take his advice? _Of course._ She knew he was too good to be true. Another example of why she'd sworn off dating high school guys.  
Dramatic horny clowns who acted like children...

 

Throwing the still half-full slushy to the ground, she stomped her way back to the passenger side of Heather's car and threw open the door.

  
"What the fuck was that?" Heather commented. Veronica said nothing, giving JD one last look before they pulled out of the parking lot. He was leaning over the bike's handlebars, staring after them as they made their way towards Remington. Neither girls spoke until about five minutes into the ride.

 

"Reach for that rum in the back seat, girl." Heather smiled and hit the gas. "I'm about to change your pathetic life."


	3. Rum and Knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Attempted rape, blood, and violence in this chapter. I said no MURDER, that doesn't make our man any less crazy.

Smoke and the sour smell of booze assaulted their senses as soon as two popular girls stepped out of the car. They'd taken shots on the way here. Rum wasn't usually her thing, but it went down easier than whiskey.  
  
  
"Ew!" She groaned when her high heels sank into the wet grass. The old, brick, once story house was dimly lit with two entrances, north and south. Heather picked a side and tip-toed through the grass to the door. There was no need to knock, the door was wide open.  
  
  
"Breathe, Veronica. You don't want these people thinking you're a baby, do you? Remember: You fuck this up, you're _out_."  
  
  
_No pressure._ Veronica thought bitterly. Maybe getting kicked out of Heather's little friend circle wouldn't be the worst thing in the world? Then again, she really didn't want to find out. Monday morning would come soon enough. Did she really want to know what kind of rumors Heather would spread about her?  
  
  
"Come on!" Heather pulled her through the doorway. There were people everywhere. Wall to wall boys and girls grinding and making out to a stereo that was cranked so high it shook the building. Broken glass covered the floor by the window, an array of bottles having been knocked off it by a very serious couple unaware of their surroundings.  
  
  
" _This_ is the kind of party I've been talking about." Heather pinched her friend's side. "And think, you could be popping corn and listening to Betty _Buttface_ whine about how she's still a virgin." Chandler laughed through her nose and pushed her further into the room. Five steps in, was enough. This place stunk! There was a girl passed out on the floor by the kitchen. She had a smoking blunt in her hand and a tipped beer soaking the bottom half of her dress. Briefly, Veronica thought she should kneel down and help her, but her attention was jostled by a group of guys shouting "Ehhhh!" from the other side of the den.  
  
  
"Helloooo ladies!" A baby-faced red head whistled. Heather straightened and fluffed out her hair, smacking Veronica in the back. Was this the college boy supreme that Heather had been talking about? He really wasn't _that_ good looking. She'll give it to him, college boys were tall, MUCH taller than any high-schooler she'd ever met... but good-looking?  
  
  
The guy burped and stumbled closer (so classy), bloodshot eyes looking them both up and down.  "Girls girls _girlssss_ , Have a drink! There's three coolers in here and we have more in the kitchen."  
  
  
"Cool" Heather nodded, adjusting her (definitely padded) bra. "Love the party!" She added dumbly. The red head winked, stumbling back over to a group of his friends. Veronica saw them pointing and whispering.  _Drunk idiots._   If they thought they were getting anywhere near her they were as stupid as they looked. She'd rather die than be pawed by a drunk man. Smelly, sloppy, unromantic... Nope. She'd take her sober trysts in parking lots, thanks. Hm! She'd even revisit a messy first with Robbie Colin from yearbook community, if it meant escaping a few smooches from an overweight, drunk, jock.   
  
  
_"Ow!"_ Heather smacked her with a cup of something and Veronica apprehensively took it from her friend's hand. Maybe a bit more alcohol would at least make this a LITTLE more enjoyable. So far, this party had been anything but cool. Only five minutes in and she could already tell she'd made a mistake. Dirty, smoky, creepy, and full of drunk men was not what anyone should call a "good time".  
  
  
"Loosen up, Veronica. _God._ " The tall red-head was already back, pressing himself against Heather's back side. Heather turned around to face him, giggling and letting him kiss at her. Unfortunately, the red head wasn't alone...  
  
  
"Heyyy there, pretty lady!" A bleach blonde man wearing jeans and a jersey stepped in front of her, taking her drink from her hand and downing whatever was left in it. "I haven't seen you around here before. Are you friends with Harriet?"  
  
  
_Harriet?_   "Um. Do you mean _Heather?_ "  
  
  
"Whatever. My name's Lorn." He grinned and turned around. She watched him unimpressed as he lifted up his shirt to reveal the letters L O R N written on his back with lipstick. "Some stoned bitch thought it was funny. Is it at least spelled right?" He spun, chasing his back like a dog chases their tail. Veronica backed up and shook her head.  
  
  
"Uhuh. Looks right to me." _god bless._  
  
  
"Goooood. I've shown like eight girls. It'd suck if they had written TINY DICK or something, ya know?" He snorted and leaned his hand over the wooden frame of the kitchen, looming over her with hot breath making her want to gag,  
  
  
"Yeah. Pretty embarrassing." Veronica coughed.  
  
  
"MmHm. S _oooo_ I didn't catch your name."  
  
  
"Didn't throw it."  
  
  
Lorn studied her for a second, eventually throwing his head back to laugh. Snot dripped down his nose, she noticed as he pressed himself closer.  
  
  
"I like that. You're funny, pretty girl. Really though, what's your name?"  
  
  
"It's Veronica!" Heather shouted from the kitchen. _Fucking Heather!_   Did she think she was helping? Because she certainly was _not_  
  
  
"Ooo Ver-on-eeka." He said her name like he was tasting it, moving in closer and smelling the product she'd sprayed in her hair. His hands pushed her against the frame, sliding up to feel her breasts through the soft materiel of her dress.  
  
  
"N-n-nah, I uh ... I have to use the restroom!" She smacked his hands away and squeezed passed him, tripping slightly over the leg of the unconscious girl. "Can you tell me where it is?"  
  
  
"Down the hall to the right." Lorn wore a shit-eating grin, eyes still looking at her like she was a piece of meat. "I could show you-"  
  
  
"No thanks!" Veronica rushed out of the den and down the wall, knocking quickly on the restroom door before entering and slamming the door shut behind her. She hit the lights and almost puked. It was the dirtiest bathroom she'd ever seen! No toilet paper, stains on anything white, dirty clothes EVERYWHERE. Ugh! God save her. Someone come and take her away from this awful place! JD was right. He was right and she was an idiot. She wasn't cut out for a party like this. Honestly she didn't want to think of someone who was! Heather definitely _thought_ she was, but even Heather had looked nervous when that red head was kissing on her.   
  
  
" _Jesus_." IF only there were some clean towels or at least toilet paper in here, she would've thrown some water on her face... " _Shishitshit_ " The unmistakable feeling that something bad was going to happen was sitting uncomfortably in her stomach like a block of led.  
  
  
"What did I get myself into? Good going, Veronica." She spat at her own reflection.  A college party was nothing like a drunken night at Ram Sweeney's house. At least she knew what to expect from Ram, Kurt, and all of the other idiots on the football team. This place was like a ticking time bomb. The farther she wandered into the house, the less safe she felt.  
  
  
Six people knocked on the door before Veronica finally gave in and relinquished her sanctuary. It's fine. There had to be someplace in the hellhole that wasn't littered with people. Some little corner or closet she could slip into for three hours. She _could_ just grab Heather and beg to leave, but her bitchy friend would probably say no. They hadn't even been here for an hour!  
  
  
_Loosin' up_  
  
  
Maybe Heather was right. Maybe she was being too uptight, but was it wrong to want to leave a place that was making her feel unsafe? People were drunk, high, or both, bumping into her, cat-calling, grabbing at her...  
  
  
_"There you are, Valerie!"_  
  
  
_God_ she could have cried.  
  
  
Something in this house felt wrong. _Sooo_ very wrong and before she could get up the courage to track down Heather, Veronica was caught by the arm.  
  
  
_"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be standing alone in empty rooms."_  
  
  
After leaving the restroom, she'd wandered down the hall to the back bedrooms, opening and closing doors until she found an empty room to hide in. It was someone's room, but they weren't there. Books sat on an old oak desk and a bed was made up in the corner. The window was wide open, fresh autumn air tricking her into feeling calm. She didn't think to shut the door. Who would shut themselves into a strangers bedroom in the middle of a party?  
  
  
"You tired, sweetheart?"  
  
  
"Lorn,"  She didn't even get a chance to turn around and see his stupid white hair before hands were digging into her hips from behind, pulling at her hard. Her back hit his chest like she had smacked into a wall. Lips brushed lightly against the side of her neck. Hadn't she already told him she wasn't interested?  
  
  
_No, you told him you had to use the restroom.  
  
  
Pffsh! Well, she would fix that  
  
  
_ "Lorn, I'm really not feeling well and I'm _really_ not interested" She said at first, trying to pry his hands off of her. He responded by wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "I mean it! Get off!" He was so _heavy!  
  
  
_ The blonde tightened his grip on her and it hurt! He moaned disgustingly into her hair, not even answering, choosing instead to bump against the back of her legs, nudging her farther into the room.  
  
  
"Seriously! I said NO! Go away!" One monstrous push was enough. Veronica was a small girl, lightweight, easy to manhandle... Never had this particular trait worked so hard against her.  
  
  
"AHHGH!" The breath was knocked out of her lungs, her back hitting the bed with enough force to send her through the fucking mattress. She tried to hop back up, but Lorn's hands were pushing her shoulder's down, his knee digging painfully into her thigh.  
  
  
"Come on-" He laughed and kissed her full on the mouth. Veronica squealed and began to panic. She pushed up on his chest. _Push Push Push_ Lorn didn't seem to be getting the message. He roughly pressed her back down, pinning her wrists to the cushions.  
  
  
"Valerie, baby, you don't want me to tell that blonde bitch what a little girl your bein' huh?" He feigned a sweet smile and rolled his hips into her. "She said you give it out all the time, baby." His face dropped to her neck and all she could do was lay there... _ALL SHE COULD DO WAS LAY THERE._ No! This wasn't ok! She needed him to stop!  
  
  
"Lorn _get off_!"  
  
  
"That's what I'm trying to do!" He laughed. His hand trailed up her dress and she cried out, feeling the bastard's fingers pressing and rubbing.  
  
  
"STOP!" She could have sworn she saw a dark shadow out of the corner of her eye, lingering in the doorway like a bad omen. This was it. She couldn't push him off! Lorn was going to rape her!  
  
  
" _Shhh_! What, slut? You want people thinking you're crazy? _Shut your mouth_."  
  
  
"Stop stop stop stop!" She was begging now, blinking back tears. Her voice was nothing but air! She couldn't _scream_! She didn't want this! She didn't want _him_!  
  
  
"Give it up, baby. You want this."  
  
  
**_"No, I really don't think she does."  
  
  
_** It was a sharp growl Veronica thought she'd only imagined.  
  
  
"What the fuck?" The boy on top of her gasped.  
  
  
_No, it couldn't be_  
  
  
**"Get up"**    
  
  
Lorn's hand was ripped from underneath her dress, the mouth on her neck was gone, and the broad chest on top of her was hoisted up. Veronica blinked and tried to move, but the man's knees were still pinning her thighs to the bed.  
  
  
"S-Shit!" She heard the college boy sputter and gasp. His hands pushed off of her, reaching up.  In the dim light pouring from the window, Veronica saw him... her prince. "The fuck! The fuck, man!"  
  
  
Missing his signature black trench coat, who else but Westerburg High's Jason Dean stood panting like a mad man over her assailant's back.

 

 **" _Move and you're dead_."** He hissed. One hand had a painful grasp on Lorn's bleach-blonde hair... the other was pressing a 3-inch knife against the flesh of the boy's  throat.  
  
  
"JD." In her adrenaline induced haze, she could hardly believe he was actually there until Veronica caught a clear glimpse of his face as a car went by. Its headlights illuminated the young man's features, beautiful and deranged like an angel or a demon, something terrifying and exhilarating-  
  
  
"Ah-Ah!" Lorn cried out.  
  
  
**_"Shhhh_!"** The knife pressed deeper. Something dark began to form around the knife, running down to the boy's collar in small trickles. **"What, big guy? You want people thinking you're _crazy_? _SHUT_ your _mouth_ "  
  
  
**_That's blood_ ,  Veronica's mind belatedly supplied. A part of her felt almost euphoric. That sick asshole _should_ bleed. He should hurt and feel EXACTLY how much Veronica hated him-  
  
  
_But wait!_   The reasonable side of her screamed, clawing to the surface, telling her she needed to stop this! Lorn didn't deserve to die... Well, maybe he did, but not here, not by _JD's hand!_  
  
  
Lorn let out another choked sob and JD twitched. Her savior was debating it seemed, holding the other kid in place like a cat trying to decide what to do with a mouse.  
  
  
"Fuck. Stop." It was a mutter at first. JD didn't hear. "STOP!" A little louder that time. Lorn cried out again and that seemed to jar them both, Veronica leaping up from the bed and JD sliding the knife away and letting the college brat scramble away from his bloody hands.  
  
  
"Hell! HELL!" Lorn was crying, real tears spilling down his face, and he crawled for the door.  
  
  
JD turned to grip Veronica's shoulders. _The blood._ She could feel _the blood_ smear wet and sticky onto her bare skin. She swallowed and JD shook her, saying words that Veronica wasn't hearing. She noticed that his face was back to normal, for the most part. His eyes looked lighter, saner even, as the pupils receded. It all happened so fast. Everything... wrong and then right again... well, if you consider your classmate nearly slitting a guy's throat "right".  
  
  
"How did you find me?" She asked. He gave her an odd look.  
  
  
"Later." The knife clicked as he shoved it down into his pants pocket. "Come on. I'm not ready to meet his friends." He pulled her to the open window slipping out with all the grace of a James Bond wannabe.  "Now!"  
  
  
Veronica shook her head at Lorn, watching him crawl to the hallway. "Veronica, _now!_ " Why was the earth moving to a speed she couldn't keep up with?  
  
  
"Ah Shit. Hold on." JD climbed back through the window and swept her up in one motion. She was so out of it, her body nearly didn't realize her feet weren't on the floor.  
  
  
"The police! I'll call the fucking police!" Lorn was yelling, still crawling backwards in the hall like something out of a horror film. People walked passed, but they didn't seem to see. They stumbled by like zombies as this kid lay bleeding on the floor! And speaking of blood: the dark smudge on his neck was much worse looking now. A patch of red stained the collar and hand prints marked his white shirt.   
  
  
She wanted to be sick.  
  
  
"Don't get sick now. We're leaving." JD helped her out the window, setting her on the ground and quickly tugging her behind him as he ran into the street. "Over here." His motorcycle was parked against a curb between two other cars, a black trench coat sitting neatly over the seat.  
  
  
"How did you find me?" She repeated once they'd gotten to the bike.  Her savior was in an awful hurry.  
  
  
"You told me where you were going, remember?" The coat rounded his shoulders, slipping over his flannel shirt with ease. "It wasn't that hard to find once I got on campus. Heather's car is parked around the other side. "  
  
  
"Oh." Veronica scrunched her face up in thought... Well, sort of in thought 'cause the only thing her mind could really concentrate on, aside from her nasty lightheaded-ness , was her beautiful stranger. Jason Dean, the new kid that had just crashed a college party, saved her from being raped, held a knife to a man's neck, and dragged her out a window...  all for _**her**  
  
  
_ It sounded fucked up. What person could draw blood from another person? But the more her mind replayed it, the better the scene sat. What if he hadn't driven after them? What if that kid had raped her?  
  
  
_What if JD hadn't been there?  
  
  
_ Her prince seated himself over his bike. Brilliant eyes bore into hers like he had read her thoughts and liked it. He was still breathing heavily, mouth slightly open. There was red smeared on his hands, but she didn't have enough cares to mention it.  
  
  
"Shall we?" He said to her, bloody hand held out for her to take.  
  
  
Veronica eyed the bike. She was out of it, but not _that_ out of it. She'd never liked motorcycles.  
  
  
Regardless of her feelings, patience was clearly not JD's middle name. He rolled his eyes and snatched her arm before she could step back, yanking her towards him. He helped her maneuver a leg over the back, wrapping both her arms securely around his middle once she was properly seated.  
  
  
"Hold on. I'll go slow, but focus. Keep your hands on me."  
  
  
"I think I can manage that." Her breath on his neck must've felt good to him because he scooted a bit in his seat, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath.  
  
  
Heather Chandler was going to be pissed when she found out she had bagged the party, but _this_... _THIS_ was more than worth it.  
  
  
Veronica's hands gripped his sides the whole way. Her face pressed into his coat, breathing in the pleasant smell of him as the wind swept her hair.  
  
  
_Motorcycles arn't so bad,_   she decided.  
  
........................


	4. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffffffff.

  
_"Coming up?"_  
  
  
She crawled through the window before him, the two words having been a good enough invitation for the trench wearing rebel. He followed silently, holding the ladder for her before climbing up himself.  
  
  
"You uh... didn't give me a chance to say goodbye back there" JD smiled as he pulled himself through the bedroom window. His boots thumped as they hit the hardwood,  coat moving around him like a black shadow in the darkened space. "I didn't want our first date at _7-Eleven_ to end on a bad note."  
  
  
"First _date_." Veronica backed up to let him in, thankful that the dim lighting could hide just how stupid and big her smile was.  "At the 7-Eleven? Swanky."  -was what she said, but her mind sounded a little more like:  
  
_date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date-date He said_ **DATE**  
  
  
"So what?" She added after regaining control of her senses, "You followed me to a college party? Saved me from rape and then climbed through my bedroom window JUST so you could say _goodbye_?"   
  
  
"Mmm. Dreadful etiquette, I apologize-"  
  
  
"Don't apologize."  In the dark, she tripped over a mini trashcan on her way to the desk, hands stretching out to feel for the lamp. "You really had my ass back there."    
  
  
"I _think_ you mean that I had your _back_ ,"  He watched her switch on the light, wincing and shutting his eyes like he'd never seen the light of day.  
  
  
Her room was pretty normal for a 17-year-old girl: Big desk front and center with a few racks of books beside it, queen bed with side tables against the wall in front of the desk, a few guilty pleasure cutouts from a magazine. It was spacious, which was something she had always loved. As a child, little Veronica would run and dance around all the empty space. She would leap from her desk onto her bed and miss and run crying to her parents.... Ah, the good 'ol days.  
  
  
Now, instead of bringing home stray animals and sneaking them in through the window, Veronica was sneaking in boys that carried knives and drove motorcycles.  
  
  
_Same difference._  
  
  
JD cleared his throat and looked down, a sour thought suddenly overcoming his features. He looked guilty almost, nervous like a little boy about to tell his parents what he did wrong.  
  
  
"We fought." He said "Earlier. Do you remember?"  
  
  
"Hardly."  And she was telling the truth.  Their 7-Eleven "date" seemed like days ago even though it had only been hours. He'd opened his mouth, perhaps to say something more about it, but the words died before he could voice them. Some raised eyebrows and a slight shrug was all that was left of those thoughts, it seemed, and that was fine with her. What they'd fought about was stupid and Veronica really didn't need a reminder of how she had _almost_ been talked out of going to Remington. If she could get through this night "I told you so"-free, that only meant her rebel prince was as courteous as he was heroic.  
  
  
_Ooo_ _heroic_! She loved the sound of that.  
  
  
Leaving him to his thoughts, Veronica crossed to her dresser and undid the zipper on her dress. The black garment slipped down her figure with ease and she stepped out of it, placing it back on its hanger. Hilariously, the boy exploring the length of her room pretended not to see.  
  
  
As she placed the dress back into her closet, the girl couldn't help but study him. He was such a contrast, really. Her room was all light pastels, gray floor rug, blue curtains, and blue bedspread,  while _he_ was made up of black and green and dark gray; A creature so out of place that is was beautiful.  
  
  
"I'm usually pretty good at reading people," He mused after a few minutes of silence, stopping in front of her desk to toy with the pages of her open diary.  "You know, I was almost convinced... you uh    _might've_ been attracted to me."  
  
  
_Might've???_  
  
  
In two steps she was beside him, slamming the diary closed and looking up into his smug face.  
  
  
In just her panties and short shoulder-less top, Veronica should have felt vulnerable. Strange that she didn't. Lorn had made her feel vulnerable fully clothed. Here, standing next to Jason Dean in nothing but a shirt and underwear, she felt _powerful_. Veronica Sawyer felt _bold_ and, more importantly, she felt _in control_.  
  
  
Her hand gently ran up the sleeve of his black coat. She touched his face, fingers lightly brushing his jaw, feeling him swallow at the contact.  
  
  
"Stay."  
  
  
It wasn't even asked of him, it was demanded. How could she spend the rest of the night alone after that oaf had tried to attack her? Maybe it was weird. JD barely knew her, but if he was willing to chase her around at a Remington party, certainly he would be willing to keep her dreams company for the rest of the night.  
  
  
"Mm" He seemed to consider it, covering her hand with his own and pulling it down to his chest. "I won't leave you here to choke of your own vomit."  
  
  
"Ha. Yeah, no vomit. I promise."  
  
  
JD snorted, swiping some stray pieces of black hair away from his eyes. This night had been a whirlwind of insanity. She should have known it would end with a handsome madman pushing a ladder up under her bedroom window and her, casually prancing about in her underwear, asking him to stay.  
  
  
"Maybe you should shower first." He said so matter-of-factly, a stunned Veronica nearly second-guessed if he was truly interested in her. Confused, she followed his gaze down to her shoulder where dried smears of red were coloring her pale skin.  
  
  
"Oh shit! Gross!" She whipped off the gray crop, throwing it on the floor like it had burned her. She was _not_ climbing into bed with Lorn's blood on her! "Oh god! What if he had a flesh-eating disease!"  
  
  
"Not a far-fetched thought."  
  
  
"Well, _come on_ before I start melting from the outside in."  
  
  
Veronica tip-toed the best they could to her bedroom door, putting her ear to it before slowly pulling it open. Her parents were in bed, no doubt. It was dark. No light at all in the empty hallway.  
  
  
"Their room is downstairs."  _Their_ as in _her parents_.  JD didn't need the clarification. "Just whisper. We don't need _Nurse Vivian Sawyer_ coming up to check on us."  
  
  
JD followed close to her back, both slipping into the bathroom across the hall and closing the door.  The white lights were harsher in the small washroom. She could've warned him, but it was funny to see the poor kid grunt and struggle again, adjusting to the change in brightness. Once he could see, he gave her an exasperated look and shrugged off his coat so he could wash his hands in the sink.  
  
  
Veronica rolled her eyes at him, unhooking the back of her bra and stepping into the tub.  
  
  
"This isn't weird for you, is it?" She shirked her bra and panties, throwing them outside the curtain and turning the handle. Veronica had been so focused on listening for his answer she forgot to jump out of the way for the initial cold spray. It hit her right in the face.  
  
  
"Oh _god_." Her squeaky gasp earned a laugh from the boy on the other side of the curtain.  
  
  
"Not weird at all."  It was a murmur, relaxed and content, maybe not even meant for her to hear. His voice wasn't the type that carried, she'd noticed that the day they'd first met. In a roaring cafeteria, Veronica remembered leaning in a bit to catch every word. It was lighter than most other boys. Smoother than a rasp, but still young. When he spoke he rarely spoke louder than her, like he was a pro a matching another person's volume. _Sincerely_. No one had ever interested her more. His voice, his looks, his thoughts, they were different and strange and mysterious. It would almost be shame to finally have Jason Dean all figured out, she thought.  
  
  
Ten minutes must have ticked by while she was in the shower. Ten whole minutes of her erasing any possible reminder of Lorn. She scrubbed everything (touching up a few spots with her razor) and shampooed her hair three times for good measure. She had checked and double checked her shoulders.  
  
  
The blood was gone. Lorn was gone. She was safe.  
  
  
_Breathe_  
  
  
Veronica could see JD's shadow sitting of the floor through the beige curtain between them. He had been so silent, not speaking again until he heard the water turn off. He handed her the towel with a quick "Here", successfully managing to stare her in the eyes when she shamelessly threw open the curtain to reach for it.  
  
  
"Thanks." The towel was fluffy, but cold. Everything in the house was cold once fall came and winter would only be worse. _Uuugghhhh_ She shuddered at the thought of snow. It was too early to be thinking such things, and so soon after summer had ended. Summer in Ohio had always been her favorite season. It never got hotter than she could handle. The grass was warm and soft. Now, the grass was wet and cold. Hard to believe she'd have to wait three whole seasons before she'd get her summer back.  
  
  
"Ready?" JD tugged on her towel playfully.  
  
  
"Is the coast clear?"  It had been a joke, but they both looked at each other like the situation was serious. Opening the door, they peeked out at least _twice_ before racing each other to the bedroom. Veronica couldn't help her laugh.  
  
  
_"Shh Sh sh_. Would you quiet down? Something tells me your parents wouldn't appreciate finding a guy like me in here with their naked daughter."  Lies. Her _father_ wouldn't appreciate it, her mother on the other hand.... Well, she'd explain that to him some other time.  For now, she let herself flop face down onto her blue bedspread, groaning loudly into the pillows.  
  
  
"C'mere" She moaned and looked back at him. Her heroic bad-boy was by the bed, but he didn't move. Was he afraid of being too forward?  "C'mere, I said!"  Sleep threatening to overcome her, Veronica chose to reach out and grab for is arm. JD dodged her hands, pulling away and slipping out of his green flannel button-up. Next she watched him remove his boots before pulling himself up beside her, laying down and moving one arm behind her head.  
  
  
"Is this alright?"  
  
  
_"Perfect."_ Veronica sighed and closed her eyes. Now that he was settled, she tried again: reaching out and gently memorizing the feel of JD's cotton tank top. He breathed, in and out and in, chest inflating against the light press of her nails. As she floated, her mind absently wondered if she should get up and turn off the lamp...  
  
  
_And ruin this moment?_  
  
  
She'd rather die. __  
  
  
"Thank you." It took her a moment to realize it had been her that said it.  
  
  
"Hm. For what?"  
  
  
"For staying." He could have dumped her off and went home. He could have said "I told you so" and left. He could have said and done a lot of things, but instead...  
  
  
_............................................................................................_

_"Veronica,"_

_......................................................................._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We saw a glimpse of JD's crazy side in the last chapter. His lack of empathy and aggressiveness are demons for sure... But he's so cute when he's normal haha! We'll see.


	5. Definitely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little more about our boy's past and personality. Veronica finds herself drawn to him, regardless.

_  
......................................................................._

_  
_"Veronica,"_  
  
  
  
_"Veronica,"_  
  
  
_"VERONICA,"_  
_

_......................................................................._ _  
**  
**  
_"__ **VERONICA"  
  
  
** Somewhere deep in the depths of dreamland, Veronica Sawyer could hear the persistent call. Much worse that any alarm, any blaring car horn, any flock of morning crows-  
  
  
It was the voice of Vivian Sawyer.  
  
  
"Veronica, baby?" The chipper voice called again. There was a rap and the wooden bedroom door shook on its hinges. This was a usual with her mother. Mrs. Sawyer rose with the sun, it didn't matter what time she went to bed. She expected everyone else to be up no later than 9am to "Smell the new day". Honestly, 9am wasn't something Veronica would ever call child abuse. _6am_ was saved for that title and it was school that demanded that of her, but _COME ON!_ Today was Saturday! The teen never woke before 11am on a Saturday.  
  
  
"Veronica?"  
  
  
Another three knocks sounded at the door. With a heavy sigh, the exhausted daughter unwillfully opened her eyes to the sunlit white ceiling. _Jeeeesus she was tired_. She'd slept like a rock, but that heavy headed feeling was still clinging to her like sopping wet hair... and speaking of-   Her shoulder length dark hair was still wet from hours before. The poor tangled mess of monstrous knots rested woefully against her pillowcase. Veronica wondered how long it would take her to comb through it. She should have conditioned it. Had she even shampooed? Yes.. maybe? _UGHH  
  
  
_ The night before was all coming back to her, but far too slowly. Events fell into place at an annoying pace, like some kind of fucked up jigsaw puzzle.  
  
  
_Must get coffee._  
  
  
"Ronnie!" The muffled voice shot up an octave, if that was even possible. "Come on! Get up! You're father and I are going to brunch. Are you coming?"  
  
  
" _Noooo."_ Was Veronica's cranky reply. It was _Saturday_ for crying out loud! How many times did she have to negotiate this with the woman? School days: 6am, Weekends: 11am, Winter Break: Sleep all day, and-   uh  
   
  
Umm... Why was her desk lamp on?  
  
  
_Dreadful etiquette, I apologize_  
  
  
_JD..._  
  
  
**JD**  
  
  
Oh.  
  
My.  
  
God.  
  
  
It felt like she had been struck by lightening, the realization hitting her like a cold bucket of water.     
  
  
Veronica _remembered._  
  
  
The 7-Eleven, the fight, the attack, JD had been there with a _knife_! His hands had coated her bare shoulders in blood. They'd escaped out a window, bloody college date-rapist dragging himself across the floor like a ghoul... screaming. The look on JD's face... The look of a crazed _maniac_ ,  
  
  
and it had been the single most hottest thing Veronica Sawyer had ever seen.  
  
  
"Your father and I are headed out then, Ronnie. When you decide to emerge from your cave, don't forget to sweep the back porch!"  She felt the body next to hers stir, their leg stretching out and bumping her with the rough fabric of their jeans. "Would you like me to bring you back a croissant?"  
  
  
She could just imagine the Heathers' faces when she told them. In nothing but her underwear, little sweet Sawyer had invited Jason Dean into her bed. This strange, quiet, mysterious, new kid had innocently spent the whole night beside her, just as she'd asked. From nearly slitting a man's throat to gently resting himself above the pale blue bedspread. The young man was certainly an enigma.  
  
  
"Veronica? Did you hear me?" Her mother pressed.  
  
  
"Umm yeah. No, that's ok." She answered stupidly. Her oblivious mother was already halfway down the stairs.  
  
  
"Alright. Sweep the porch!" Vivian's heeled shoes disappeared. Veronica listened to them go, only daring to move after she heard the car doors slam.  
  
  
_Stop acting like a blushing virgin, Veronica! Look at him!_  
  
  
Veronica clenched her teeth and hurriedly rolled over. Sleeping soundly, or at least pretending to, was her handsome Jason Dean. He was there. _There!_ Just as he'd promised he would be. The girl gently lifted and bent her right arm to place it under her head. She didn't mean to stare at him. It was weird of her, right? People that have just met a day ago don't do this. They don't sleep in each other's beds, and they definitely don't watch the other sleep like some creepy... Well it felt rude almost, like she was intruding on a private moment of a person she barely knew.  
  
  
Regardless, her heart thundered. It wasn't everyday you rolled over in bed and come face to face with your crush. And _dammit_ his face was beautiful. Peaceful... Well, it was somewhere between a frown and a grimace, but peaceful nonetheless. He was on his back, face tipping towards her. At some point in the night his gray top had risen up and she couldn't help but memorize the scene. Breathing in through her nose and out her mouth, the brunette gently pressed at the damp towel laying crumpled and splayed out underneath her body.  
  
  
Towel...  
  
  
_TOWEL???_  
  
  
Oh shit.  
  
  
Fuck!  
  
  
She was nude!  
  
  
**"Goddammit!"**  Veronica cried, effectively waking up her snoozing visitor.  
  
  
JD tossed his head violently to the opposite side, his arm dropping off the bed. Veronica hurriedly pulled the towel around her again, cheeks red as apples.   _Not like this._ _Definitely not like this!_ She was not at all opposed to the idea of dropping a towel in front of her handsome savior, but _heavens above_ it wouldn't be on fucking accident! A first time should always be sort of special, right? And _Jesus_ Imagine? The poor guy half asleep and her hair looking like Madonna's from the "Lucky Star" video? Lord above, no. Give her a hair brush and some toothpaste at the ass crack of dawn and she would think about it.  
  
  
"Morning,"  Her mysterious boy seemed to recover from the scare, cracking open a single eye to look at her. That smart little smile was back, lifting the left corner of his mouth.  JD knew how to take a girl's breath away, that was clear. Was this something he did all the time? Veronica actually let herself wonder how many girls came before her...  
  
  
_No, ugh._ She didn't want to think about that. It didn't matter anyway. What did she care? Good-looking kid like him probably attracted all kinds of girls. Nothing out of the ordinary. No reason to get jealous. Who said anything about being jealous?  
  
  
"Sleep well?"  
  
  
If there _had_ been girls before her, some prissy things from another state, she'd make him forget about them. That was McNamara's mantra anyway and it always worked for her. "Fuck the EXs, they're EXs for a reason" she'd say. It really comes in handy for Heather, seeing as her fuckboy _Ram Sweeny_ has slept with nearly every girl in Westerburg High.   
  
  
Tightening her hold on the edges of her towel, Veronica leaned up and boldly pulled herself over his chest. She then smiled, letting her arm drape across him, right hand coming up to play gently at the dip in his collarbone. JD didn't mind the way she rested her head just below his chin. He even settled his arms around her, sighing a bit before relaxing.

  
"Much preferred to choking on my own vomit." The girl joked. She felt his chest bounce, an amused laugh humming through his nose.

  
Content, they stayed like that for nearly half an hour, both of them falling in and out of sleep. Thoughts came and went without hindering. Granted, she was only seventeen, but Veronica couldn't recall EVER sleeping so peacefully during the night with someone else pressed up against her. They didn't have sex. JD hadn't even instigated.

  
What was the word for it?   _Cuddling?_

  
She was slightly embarrassed to admit that something like this had never come before sex. She was more of the _fuck first-hug later_ kind of gal. Getting sentimental never seemed like something she could achieve before sex and she would NEVER let them into her room let alone on her bed. A bed was a safe place and no yearbook editing, scrap-booking, class president was going to sleep in it.  
JD was different though. She let him into _her_ room. He slept in _her_ bed. The last guy to even step foot in her room, other than her father, had been Kurt Kelly. He had showed up drunk at her birthday party last year and pulled her upstairs. Veronica remembered how he'd mumbled some nonsense about trucks as soon as the door was closed, holding onto her shoulders like the world couldn't hold still. Veronica thought he was going to kiss her,  
  
  
He didn't.    
  
  
Had she even wanted him too? The world may never know, because as soon as Kurt had leaned in Heather Duke chose that moment to burst through the door, angrily shouting that they were being rude and ignoring the other guests. What business had it been of hers? Veronica had no clue, but either way : Bullet dodged. Or at least that's what Veronica told herself after the fact. Kurt may be a hottie with a decent report card, but he was also a jersey wearing jock who picked on people for no rhyme or reason. Bullying was something Veronica never found attractive. Hilarious really, seeing as she's technically a bully herself  
_  
  
Heather Chandler made sure of that.  
  
  
_ Cozily, somewhere on the other side of her consciousness, she could feel JD's hand rubbing tiny circles on her upper arm. Ah. Right. The fuck was she doing thinking about _stupid idiot Kurt Kelly_ when she had a beautiful rebel wrapped around her?  
  
  
Needing to shake the jock from her mind completely, Veronica leaned her head off his chest and studied his expression. His eyes were looking at her, relaxed but questioning. Why did it always seem like he could read her mind? Or maybe he was just wondering why she had moved?  
  
  
"I was thinking." She said before he could ask. He raised an eyebrow at her. "I was thinking about Kurt and Ram and what happened in the lunch room." That was only half a lie. After everything that had happened last night, maybe it was a little odd of her to recall that specific event.  
Surprisingly,  he didn't look bothered.  
  
  
"They were blanks." JD answered like it was the least important topic in the world. His hand reached up to run through her messy hair. The weight of it gently pressed her back into him "Couple of duds I carried with me just in case the senior kings of Westerburg decided to puff up their feathers."  
  
  
That had her looking up again, knocking his hand away by accident. "Wait...  You've done something like that before?"  
  
  
"Different state, same shit. After a while, you get used to the rhythm."

  
She should have just left it there, something about his answer should've warned her to leave it there,  but her _damn_ curiosity-

  
"What about the school before Westerburg? What was that like?"  
  
  
"Don't remember." It wasn't an annoyed response, but the words were said far too quickly to be called comfortable. Veronica could take a hint.  
  
  
"Heather Duke saw them drag you down to the principal's office. Did they suspend you?"  
  
  
"For two days."  
  
  
"Not bad." and she meant it. Pulling a gun on two football stars in the lunch room, blanks or not, is pretty serious. Veronica hadn't thought he'd be expelled, but suspended for just two days?  Kinda lenient.   "Did they call your parents?"   
  
  
_ah, shit._  She forgot that the _subject of "Dad" was off  limits._ God, he probably thought this was some kind of interrogation. Before she could see the look on his face, Veronica ducked her head. Her face pressed into his neck, fingers roaming his sides in a clever attempt at making him forgive the questioning.

  
It seemed to have worked. If the question _had_ upset him, he didn't show it.  
  
  
 "Yeah. They called him," His hand was back in her hair, toying and tugging at random strands. "They told my old man he had to come pick me up," He snorted, chest jumping. "Father of the year said _fuck you_ my son can rot there. And when the principal finally agreed to let me leave on my own,  my dad told 'em if they ever bothered him at work again that he'd go down to the school and take a shit on the principal's desk."  
  
  
"No, he didn't."  
  
  
"Yes, he did. Good ol' Bud Dean."  
  
  
She didn't want to think he was lying, but the story sounded so... extreme?

  
_Extreme always seems to make an impression._

  
Veronica bit her lip. She should stop with the questions. She should stop being so nosy about this.  "He wasn't mad at you?"  _**GODDAMMIT!!!**_

  
She felt him breathe in deep and then let it out.  As the air left his lungs, the boy squirmed a bit and readjusted his hold on her.  "Yeah, he was pissed." She thought he was going to leave it there, but he continued  "Made me hand over my _friend_."

  
"Your _friend?_   You mean the gun?"

  
"It was his to begin with. He keeps 'em under lock and key, but the key is hidden in the freezer between the vodka and the frozen dinners. Anyway, Bud reamed me out for a good thirty minutes and went back to watching his soaps."

  
It was Veronica's turn to laugh, finally feeling like this was something she could relate to. Vivian Sawyer was also an avid soap watcher. "Ok, Days of Our Lives or All My Children?

  
His arms squeezed her and, to her relief, he genuinely laughed too.   
  
  
"Never paid it much mind."

.........

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes later, after a bit more light petting, they found themselves finally climbing out of bed. While JD grabbed his coat off the bathroom floor,  Veronica forced herself to throw on some clothes.  
  
  
"No. No. No." Forget it. Waaaaay too much effort. So instead of going through all the trouble of picking an outfit, she ended up just throwing on her bathrobe. Good enough.  
  
  
"So, I guess I _won't_   see you on Monday?" She leaned against the front door's frame, holding her robe around her and watching him dig for his motorcycle keys on the porch. They jingled in his hand as he lit a cigarette between his lips.  
  
  
"Disappointed?" he asked.  
  
  
"A little."   
  
  
The lighter snapped shut with a crack.  
  
  
"Well, we'll just have to do this again then" He gestured to the window. It was a laughable scene, ladder kicked haphazardly into the grass. She'd be lucky if her parents hadn't noticed. _That_ or the motorcycle parked around the side of the house. Whatever. It's not like Vivian and Ron Sawyer had been the perfect example of innocence when they were young. Lord, if she heard another story about how her mother used to have threesomes in a pickup she'd-  
  
  
JD clicked his tongue.  
  
  
"I'll uhhh stop by for a game of croquet. Maybe make it a little more interesting for ya."   Smoke billowed from his nose and mouth as he pointedly stared at her barely clothed self leaning against the doorway.  
  
  
Veronica melted.  
  
  
Jason Dean.   Enigma.   Rebel.   Gentleman.   Hottie.   Maniac.  The list could go on. Even standing there on her front lawn, taking a long drag on his marlboro and smoothing back jagged dark hair, he was the fucking sex symbol dreamboat from her wettest fantasy. She didn't care what the Heathers would think. They could disapprove day and night. They could call him whatever name they could think of, freak, crazy, weirdo, loser. Heather Chandler could literally wipe the name Veronica from the hierarchy of Westerburg High School, it _still_ wouldn't matter. As long as Veronica Sawyer still had this new and exciting stranger-  
  
  
" _Definitely_."  
  
  
-for all she cared, the rest of Westerburg could go up in smoke.  
  
...............................................................................................................................


	6. Eaglet

The rest of her Saturday wasn't quite as eventful. In her defense, there really wasn't much in that two-story four-bedroom house that could beat waking up next to Jason Dean.  
  
  
"I just don't understand, young lady. I asked you to do one thing! ONE thing!"  
  
  
After shutting and locking her front door, Veronica went straight back to bed. As tired as she was, its fluffy blue sheets were colder and more empty now without her new handsome rebel sleeping on them.  
  
  
"Crumbs attract all sorts of critters, Veronica! Wild animals, bugs, snakes,"  
  
  
Six hours of dead sleep later, she was sitting in the dining room. A picture perfect family at the dinner table: mom on her left, dad on her right, Veronica sitting at the head of the table per usual. Dinner time was always like this: If Vivian Sawyer wasn't happy about something, you bet your ass you'd be hearing it while feasting on your meal: Leaky roof, unswept porch, expanding muffin top, annoying fellow-employees, grandma's satanic pet goat, her underwhelming sex life. Yes, any and ALL topics of conversation were appropriate for the dinner table according to the 40-year-old nurse.  
  
  
Of course, Vivian was as angry as one would expect when she'd found out her daughter hadn't swept the porch.  
  
  
"Rats, squirrels, roaches, ants-"  
  
  
Too late to make it right now, the topic had been chosen. Classic Vivian: A one-sided conversation that consisted of her mother listing off every possible vermin infestation that could take over their outside dining area.  
  
  
"Flies, birds, raccoons, rabid cats- "  
  
  
_Jesus Christ ._ The chaotic babblings that made up Vivian Sawyer's life would make an Oscar winning film one day.  
  
  
"Well, I'm going to bed!" The teen promptly excused herself from the table, taking her half finished meal with her. She hadn't been that hungry to begin with. Anyway, better to escape now while her father was still decompressing enough not to chime in. Buy what you want at the mall, but never let Ron Sawyer find out you didn't do something his wife asked you to do. As imbecilic as her mother could sometimes be, it didn't matter: Her father was in love. Nineteen years of marriage and the two still looked at each other like newly weds. Their consistent devout respect had always been something Veronica both envied and detested about the couple. It certainly set the bar high for her own love life.  
  
  
"Dinner was great, mom. Were these vegetables steamed?"  Vivian pursed her lips, clearly still mad about the porch. Her daughter shrugged.  
  
  
"You're going to bed?" Ron exclaimed. "You slept all day, did not a _damn_ thing, didn't eat your dinner-  Are you coming down with something, Veronica?"  
  
  
"Nope. Just tired. Teenage hormones will do that to us kids."  
  
  
"Teenage hormones? Oh don't get me started on _that,_ Ronnie." Vivian said cryptically, biting one of her steamed carrots FAR too scandalously. Veronica nearly dropped her plate, hair whipping around her head as she turned to give the woman a stunned look.   
  
  
Her mother's eyes were twinkling. _Never_ a good sign.  
  
  
"Why _I_ remember when I was your age" She winked, taking another carrot into her mouth. "Running around at ungodly hours, catching a ride with strangers. We'd sneak in through the window of my mother's ranch on Tinland Street. Remember Tinland Street, Ron? Oh, that's right, I hadn't dated you until _after_ we'd moved."  
  
  
Her father was looking at his wife now too, fork resting at his mouth like a fish caught on a hook. Her mother sighed and went back to eating, chewing like she was the most innocent creature created by god. The room grew more uncomfortable by the second. Veronica's face heated up, exchanging looks with her baffled father.  
  
  
"Uhh- _Ooookay_. Good talk guys."  Not daring to wait for a reply, Veronica hurried out of the dining room. She sagged against the counter as soon as she was out of view, grabbing a fist full of her own hair and pulling.  
  
  
_the fuuuuuuck???_  
  
  
What had just happened in there? That story her mother had pulled out of her ass... Vivian knew about JD sleeping over? That had to have been it, right? There was no other explanation! The story had been so random! Sure, her mother would reminisce about the old times (the kinky times) every chance she could get, but to say something so specific?  
  
  
Oh god.  
  
  
Oh _lord_.  
  
  
What did her mother know? Better question: What did her FATHER know? He was the one to worry about. Vivian had always encouraged sexuality, but her father _hated_ boys. Every single man she had introduced him to got the cold shoulder, a glare, and an interrogation. Ron had even made her last boyfriend cry once. It was funny now, but like all good funny stories... it hadn't been very funny at the time.  
  
  
" _How_ though?" Even if it was only Vivian that knew, how did the woman know at all? Had it been the ladder? The motorcycle? JD's coat was the on the floor of the bathroom, maybe she saw it? She couldn't have heard anything... UGHH! If her mother did know about JD, than it wouldn't be a secret for long. Ron was bound to find out.  
  
  
Veronica waited a good five minutes by the dining room entrance, listening intently to hear her mother admit to her father what she'd discovered,  
  
  
"I steamed the carrots..." Vivian fished, probably hoping for a compliment.  
  
  
"I think they're better boiled."  
  
  
"Mm. I guess the broccoli had an odor."  
  
  
"That's what happens when you steam broccoli, Vivian. Boil it next time."  
  
  
  Thankfully, the moment she feared never came.  
  
  
"Pshhh-Ha!" She was overreacting. A _coincidence,_ that's all it had been. Her mother was telling stories, _that_ story just happened to sound a _whole_ lot like her previous night. Nothing to be embarrassed about.  
  
  
Relived, the teen couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of her own anxiety. It had been an innocent story and nothing more.  
  
  
She happily set her plate in the sink and ran water over it, watching the residue slide off the glass surface.  
  
  
_'We'll just have to do this again then'_ Her prince had said. JD wanted to see her again. _God!_ She was on cloud nine! She'd never been this giddy with her last crush. Hanging on his every word, wondering when she was going to see him again, smelling her pillowcase like a weirdo to see if it still smelled like him...  
  
  
Less than 48 hours of knowing each other and she was already losing her mind over this kid. "Hm! Yeah." She giggled to herself. "Heather is going to have a field da-."  
  
  
Heather...  
  
  
**HEATHER**  
  
  
" _Shit!_ " That's right! She had ditched Heather at that party!  
  
  
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Fuck! She had been so wrapped up in her own romantic drama that the thought hadn't even crossed her stupid mind! She was finished! She was done for! Forget about telling the Heathers about JD! If Heather Chandler was as angry as Veronica was thinking she was, there was no telling anyone anything EVER! She'd be an outcast! Tortured! She would have to switch schools! Change her name! Skip town!  
  
  
"Whoa. Whoa. Slooooow down. Breathe, Veronica."  
  
  
Our father who art in heaven, what was the demon-queen thinking? No one had called her, but that didn't mean much. Heather Chandler was always hungover on Saturdays. She never called or even _talked_ to anyone. Maybe one of the other Heathers had called and she'd missed it? Her mother was too angry about the porch at dinner to talk about anything else.  
  
  
She would have to call Duke or McNamara if she wanted to know tonight.  
  
  
_Uuuughhhhhhhhhhh_  
  
  
"Maybe I should just accept my fate and be done with it." Miserably, she dried off her plate and stuck it back into the cupboard.

* * *

 

.........................................................................................................................................

Up in the sanctuary of her room, Veronica flipped open her diary to the last entry. The page was near illegible. Writing in between classes wasn't easy. She could even see the line of pen running off the paper from when Heather Duke had bumped her.  
  
  
_Dear Diary,_

 _Heather says she teaches people real life...  
She says, Real life sucks losers dry. You want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly._  
  
  
Charming way of putting it. Heather Chandler was a bully. She used her beauty, wealth, and confident personality to put others down. Pretty smart actually, the more she put others down the higher she climbed on the Westerburg food chain. Not that Chandler was _all_ bad, at times Veronica could even call her sweet, but when Heather was out for blood there was no stopping her.  
  
  
_Good friend sometimes_ doesn't cancel out _Bad friend most times_. The brunette would have to say without a doubt that it was situations like _this_ that made Heather Chandler a bad friend.  
  
  
"C'mon, Veronica." She whined to herself. She must have stared at that phone for two whole hours before finally getting the balls to dial:  
  
  
**"Hello?"**  
  
  
"Hi, is this Heather?"  
  
  
**"Veronica?"**  
  
  
"Hey," In the end, Veronica had decided to call McNamara. Duke wasn't always the most trustworthy. If she wasn't scheming behind Chandler's back to get them to hate Chandler, she was scheming behind McNamara and Veronica's backs to get Chandler to hate _them_. Unlike Duke, McNamara was on everybody's side. A bit aloof at times, but when Heather really focused she could be a true friend. Hopefully, that trait shined through tonight.  
  
  
**"Oh my god. I tried calling at least eight times today."** Ugh. Dammit Vivian! **"How are you feeling?"**  
  
  
"Fine. I was just sleeping."  
  
  
**"I _bet_ after what happened last night."**  
  
  
Veronica's stomach dropped.  
  
  
"Last night?" She swallowed. "You uh... heard about last night?"  
  
  
**"Um yeah. Everyone did."**  
  
  
Everyone? Like _everyone_ everyone? Did the whole of Sherwood Ohio already hear about her demotion from the lip-gloss gestapo? Had everyone been buzzing about her tarnished reputation while she had been dreaming of a certain trench coat wearing dreamboat? That's not even fair!  
  
  
"Heather, I haven't heard from Heather _or_ Heather. You're the first person I've talked to."  
  
  
**"Oh, don't bother calling Heather."** Heather snorted. **"She's being a total bitch today. Ate a whole cupcake and forgot to purge."** It took a second for her to realize McNamara wasn't talking about Chandler.  
  
  
"That's tragic." Veronica's heart was racing. She wanted to just come out and ask, but she was too frightened of the answer. "Erm.. So how's _other_ Heather. Gnarly hangover, I'm guessing?"  
  
  
**"Not at all, No. She called me at 8am to tell me the whole story. 8am! On a Saturday? I knew it had to be big."**  
  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
  
**"Shit, Veronica. You were there, weren't you? You know what happened."**  
  
  
She _did_ in fact know what had happened last night. How Heather Chandler had interpreted the events, however... "I just want to know Heather's side of the story."  
  
  
**"Oh god."** McNamara sighed. **"Well, Heather said that after you disappeared with Lorn, she sucked off Pat in the garage and took two shots with a foreign exchange student who smelled like ass. And then the foreign exchange student asked her to marry him and Heather was about to say _absolutely_ not, but then she heard a bunch of people screaming in the kitchen and went to go see-"**

 _Oh no._   "So w-what'd she see?"  
  
  
**"What do you _think_ she saw!"** Heather shouted into the phone. **"It was Lorn with a bloody _gash_ across his neck the size of the grand canyon! Lorn told Heather and Pat everything!"**  
  
  
" _Everything_?"  From _Lorn_? Oh this should be fucking horrible.  
  
  
**"A fist fight over who got to bang you first. Ring any bells?"**  
  
  
"WHAT?" Veronica's mouth dropped open. What was Heather talking about? There was no fist fight. JD grabbed the idiot from behind and almost tore his head off. Lorn nearly shat himself.  
  
  
**"Yeah! And then the other guy pulled a knife on him like fucking West Side Story and they fought! _GOD_ Veronica! Were you scared? Were you turned on? Did you two fuck?"**  
  
  
" _What_? Fuck who?"  
  
  
**"The mystery man! The man Lorn got into a fight with? Lorn said he was HUGE!  6'2 at _least_!"**  
  
  
6'2?  _HA!_   Try 5'8   
  
  
"Heather, Lorn was exaggerating."  
  
  
**" _Exaggerating_?"** McNamara squealed. Veronica pulled the phone away, the distorted pitch piercing her eardrum like an acid needle. **"Sawyer, the guy's neck was cut so deep he had to go to the hospital. The doctor said that he was lucky is hadn't gone deeper. He could have died!"**  
  
  
The teen froze at that. Mental images of Lorn's bloody shirt flashed before her eyes like pieces of made up nightmares. She remembered the sound of his screams, body crawling backwards out into the dim hallway like something you'd only see at a midnight showing of the newest horror flick. JD had been a completely different person in that moment: hazel eyes covered by the dilation of black pupils, voice low and menacing, numb to the feeling of blood oozing over his hands...  
  
  
She couldn't tell Heather that though. Lorn may have lied to keep up the farce that was his _tough guy_ image, but _dammit_ what if he hadn't?  What if Lorn had told the truth? Called the police? She supposed Lorn wouldn't have been able to prove that Veronica knew the man that had attacked him, but still-  No matter how justified Veronica thought the attack might have been, you can't sugar coat attempted murder.  
  
  
_Attempted murder.  
  
  
_ If Veronica hadn't shouted for JD to stop...  
  
  
No,  
  
  
_NO._ She wouldn't think like that. Jason Dean was only seventeen. He wasn't a murderer! He knew what he was doing, right?  
  
  
Right? _  
  
  
_**"You should have heard the way Heather gushed about you though."** Heather continued, voice cheery . **"Veronica, she's _so_ proud! _Two_ guys fighting over you? And at your first Remington party? Way to make an entrance!"**  
  
  
"I.... guess?"  Wait. So Heather Chandler _wasn't_ mad at her?  
  
  
**"Do you have any idea who that crazy knife guy was?"**  
  
  
"No idea at all." She wanted to be sick. She wanted to scream,  
  
  
but even WORSE...

Veronica Sawyer wanted to laugh.  
  
  
**"Oh well. Maybe he'll turn up one day when you least expect it. Like in Grease? You know? When Sandy shows up at school and Danny is all hot and dreamy? Or maybe it was the other way around-"**  
  
  
So insane. So crazy. No, she had to be dreaming!  
  
  
**"Really though, girl, you showed Heather what you were made of last night. She's impressed. Just wait until Monday! Everyone at Westerburg is gonna hear about this story. Call it your Week Of Fame!"**  
  
  
_Week of Fame?_    
  
  
"h-how very."   
  
  
Praised? Knighted by the Queen of the Damned? She couldn't believe it! All over a some _fake_ fight that a complete _dickhead_ said happened at a party where Veronica was almost _raped_? The universe was a fucked up place. She didn't know if she should be laughing or puking. Lord, just wait till she told JD.  
  
  
**"You're flying with the eagles now, girl."** McNamara cheered. **"There won't be a single guy at Westerburg high who won't want to worship the ground you walk on."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New game I can't wait to play after the completion of this story: Count how many times I use the word "fuck"


End file.
